


Nurturing Affections (Our Love Is Easy)

by gwendy1



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Anal Sex, Assumptions, Explicit Sexual Content, Gardens & Gardening, Jealous Keith (Voltron), Language of Flowers, M/M, Phone Sex Operator Shiro, Sheith Flower Exchange 2019, Temperature Play, Veteran Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 18:04:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19950550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwendy1/pseuds/gwendy1
Summary: Keith marks a big paper bag with the words ‘I’m sorry. Please forgive me.’ And he doodles a sad little cartoon dog on it. “There we go. That looks kinda like you.” He smiles down at Kosmo, who wags his tail.Through a series of encounters as new next door neighbors, Keith and Shiro navigate gardening, false assumptions, and finding love with each other.





	Nurturing Affections (Our Love Is Easy)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kenda1L](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenda1L/gifts).



> This is my gift to Kenda1L for the Sheith Flower Exchange [@sheithbouquet](https://sheithbouquet.tumblr.com). Hope you enjoy! :)
> 
> Title partially inspired by the song, _Our Love Is Easy_ by Melody Gardot.

_**Unexpected Meeting (Lemon-scented Geraniums)**_  
  
Keith never expected to meet the new next door neighbor. He’s always kept to himself, just nods when other tenants politely greet him as they pass each other in the stairwell or the underground parking.  
  
It’s a small apartment complex - only 8 attached townhouse units. And while that could have meant neighborly chats and exchanging casseroles, this was big city living. Tenant turnover was high. Nobody could afford the rent increases for long. Fortunately, Keith could afford to ride out a couple more increases, having gone with one of the older apartment buildings. It’s closer to the only undeveloped patch of green left in this city. And it allows pets.  
  
Kosmo scrabbles at the door, shuffling excitedly.  
  
“Alright, alright. Hang on.” Keith smiles and lurches up from his tired slump on the couch. He unlocks the sliding glass door and slides it open.  
  
Kosmo bounds out the door, but instead going for his usual chew toys, he darts over to one of the shared planters that divides the apartment’s outdoor space from its neighbors and barks. With his front paws bracing him up over the ledge and his tail wagging wildly, Kosmo perks his ears up and pants at a startled man sitting on the other side of the planter.  
  
“Whoa,” the man shouts, leaning back.  
  
“Shit!” Keith dashes over and grabs hold of Kosmo’s collar. “Down boy.” He smooths his hand across the dog’s fur, hoping to calm him down. “Sorry,” Keith says, looking across at the stranger. A new neighbor? “Did he scare you?”  
  
The man huffs, smiles, and stands. He’s tall and well-built, muscles flexing as he leverages himself up. “No,” he says. “Just startled me.” He dusts off his hands and removes a pair of gardening gloves. One of his arms is prosthetic - high tech with smooth movement, distinctly metallic, and impressively shaped to match symmetrically with his muscular flesh arm. He runs a hand through a forelock of shocking white hair which contrasts handsomely with his short dark undercut. Pushing the sweat up his brow just causes the white tuft to stick up.  
  
And Keith finds himself bizarrely enchanted.  
  
Keith lowers his eyes and clears his throat, patting awkwardly at Kosmo’s head. The dog looks up at him in puzzlement.  
  
The man grins. “I’m—“  
  
Keith jumps in to introduce himself. “Oh! Keith,” he says, shoving a hand out, ready to shake.  
  
The man finishes, “—just about finished here, anyway.”  
  
Keith blushes, mortified.  
  
But the man just chuckles and his smile goes softer - friendlier. “Hi, Keith. I’m Shiro.” He shakes his hand, then glances down. “And who is this?”  
  
Kosmo - bemused at their interaction - now barks up at Shiro, aware that he’s being addressed.  
  
Keith smiles. “This is Kosmo.”  
  
Shiro pets Kosmo, scratching under his chin.  
  
Kosmo nuzzles at his hand, not bothered in the least that it’s the artificial one.  
  
Shiro’s mouth quirks sadly. Then he straightens, directing his gaze at Keith. “I’m new to the neighborhood. Thought I’d try out some gardening now that I have a patio area. But I didn’t even think to check if these plants are pet-safe.” He hesitates, bashful. “Any chance you know if Lemon-scented Geraniums are poisonous?”  
  
Keith snorts and waves away his worry. “No, but I’m sure it’s fine. I’ve never seen him eat flowers. Just people food when he thinks I’m not watching.” Keith shuffles under Shiro’s attention. He shakes his head once and tosses his hair unintentionally. “Kosmo’s mostly an indoor dog anyway. He tends to just follow me around,” he assures him, before anxiously realizing he’s revealed himself to be a homebody. Keith blinks, awkward.  
  
Shiro nods, bemused. “If you’re sure.”  
  
“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Keith attempts to shrug it off.  
  
“Okay.” Shiro grins. “I’ll see you around. Nice to meet you, Keith. And Kosmo.” He gives the dog a friendly pat and backs away.  
  
“Oh, yeah! We’ll see you,” Keith says, eager and slightly louder than usual.  
  
Shiro waves and ducks inside his apartment.  
  
Keith sighs, smitten. And looks down at Kosmo, whose arched ear resembles a pointedly arched eyebrow. Keith cringes in dismay at his own behavior. “I know! I was ridiculous.”  
  
Kosmo huffs.  
  
———  
  
_**Dangerous Pleasures, Voluptuousness (Tuberose)**_  
  
“Oh my god, I’m dying,” Keith groans.  
  
Kosmo pants and happily wags his tail, uncaring.  
  
Until Keith stops and ducks behind a tree so Shiro won’t see him.  
  
Kosmo tugs from his end of the leash, annoyed at having to stop in the middle of his walk.  
  
Shiro jogs up ahead - oblivious - outfitted with his earbuds in and his tight shorts that hide nothing. He turns at the end of the block and continues jogging.  
  
Keith peeks out from behind the tree, then resumes their walk. He reassures himself he’s not intentionally following Shiro. He’s not obsessed or stalking him or anything. They just happened to go in the same direction as a shirtless Shiro. Keith can indulge himself in some guilt-free appreciation of the view.  
  
Up ahead, Shiro’s back flexes, glimmering under the hot sun and sweaty exertion. His muscled legs pump with every stride. And his sculpted ass bounces in perfect rhythm with each running step. He gets farther ahead, the distance between them growing.  
  
Kosmo tugs them forward, excited and trying to catch up.  
  
But Keith restrains their pace, holding them back. He pants noisily alongside Kosmo, still too anxious to try to interact and wary of revealing his attraction to someone he’ll be stuck living next to if it doesn’t work out. Maybe they should start jogging regularly, though. Keith probably needs more exercise anyway. Shiro is in amazing shape, easily outpacing them. Keith glances at Kosmo and back up at Shiro. “Don’t judge me.”  
  
A few days later, Keith slides down the couch from where he’s been peering over the edge of it and through his blinds.  
  
Shiro is out on his patio in a black tank top that perfectly frames his biceps and collarbones. He’s so hot it’s painful. Shiro bends over and then kneels, situating a plant in another raised planter - the one he shares with the other neighboring apartment on the other side of him. And the bottom of his shirt rides up slightly, revealing the dimples he has at the small of his back, just above the curve of his perfect butt.  
  
Keith groans. The risk involved with propositioning his neighbor is looking more and more worth it.  
  
Shiro’s elbow bumps into a plastic pole - the top of some toy belonging to the children over in the other apartment - and knocks it over. “Oops,” he says, and even though he’s the only one out there, “Sorry about that.” Shiro reaches over, picks up the fallen pole, and props it back up where it was.  
  
Keith grins, helplessly charmed. There’s no one else out there and Shiro’s apologizing. He’s also tending to some tuberose, apparently. Keith looked it up online in the hope that a topic for conversation would help him feel less awkward.  
  
He talks himself in and out of going out there half a dozen times. Knocking his head back against the couch cushion, Keith pouts miserably over at Kosmo. “Okay, you can judge me.”  
  
Kosmo brings a paw up over his face and rolls over, tongue lolling out.  
  
———  
  
_**Jealousy (French Marigold)**_  
  
“Ugh, Kosmo!” Keith scowls, covering his nose and waving a hand through the air, hoping to disperse some of the smell. He closes his laptop and opens his bedroom window. The fresh air rushes in with a cool breeze and Keith sighs in relief.  
  
The unmistakable sound of Shiro’s voice drifts over to them. He must also have his window open.  
  
Kosmo perks up, listening and looking at their shared apartment wall - as though he can see Shiro right through it.  
  
Keith is only mildly curious until he starts making out the words that are being said.  
  
“I want you to grab onto your headboard and dial that remote up all the way up.”  
  
He’s on the phone.  
  
“And no jacking yourself off. Keep your hands up. Let the big thick cock in you do all the work,” Shiro continues.  
  
Keith is devastated and, having heard enough, he slides his window shut to block it out. But he can’t get it out of his head. It’s awful. It lays ruin to all of Keith’s burgeoning hopes that there could have been something between them.  
  
Shiro was kind. And beautiful. And too good for Keith to have started pinning hopes onto. It’s painful, letting the possibility of anything deeper with Shiro go.  
  
Keith cringes at the thought of having to hear him with someone else through the too-thin walls. The guy on the other end of that phone was bound to show up at Shiro’s someday, wasn’t he? Horrified, Keith buries his head in his bedcovers and growls a muffled shout. He punches the mattress.  
  
Startled, Kosmo whines.  
  
The next day, Shiro is at the mailboxes and he beams at Keith. Friendly as ever. “Hi, Keith! How are things with you and Kosmo?”  
  
But Keith can’t muster up any politeness for chit-chat. He grunts, keys open his own box, and grabs his mail. Maintaining his distance, rebuffing interaction, and getting Shiro off his mind are the only real solutions he can come up with right now. Keith slams his mailbox closed, and leaves.  
  
Kosmo is tugged along, tense at the hostile atmosphere.  
  
Shiro frowns, bewildered by the snub.  
  
Inside the apartment, Keith paces his kitchen.  
  
Kosmo sits in the hall, quietly taking in how stressed Keith is.  
  
Keith bangs a cabinet open and closed. He groans. “I just have to forget about him.” He stiffens with agitation at the sound of Shiro’s footsteps padding by along the outside walkway.  
  
Kosmo jerks to attention, growling and baring his teeth at the man beyond the door.  
  
But Shiro doesn’t stop walking, of course. He continues on and into his own apartment.  
  
Thwarted from confronting this man who’s upsetting Keith, Kosmo listens as he ambles further into his home. Padding towards the back door, Kosmo follows the sounds.  
  
Keith sighs, dons some headphones, and flops onto his couch. He picks up his tablet, prepared to drown out his angst with loud music and burying himself in sketching up some good old fashioned Inception fanart. That movie would definitely make his comfort classics list. He always finds himself checking in on the fandom. Something about it has just stuck with him for some reason.  
  
He glimpses Kosmo pawing at the sliding glass door. “Okay. Okay. Just a second.” He opens it for him, letting Kosmo out and some fresh summer air in. Going back to the couch, Keith lounges and cranks up the music. Kosmo can come back in when he’s ready.  
  
An hour passes and the breeze from outside is starting to get cold. Just as Keith is about to get up and call Kosmo back inside, the dog pokes his head through the back doorway, peering at Keith and panting. And he’s covered in dirt. Oh, no. There’s ripped up remnants of flowers clinging to his fur coat.  
  
Keith gasps, dumping his headphones and tablet onto the seat as he jumps up. “Kosmo, what did you do?”  
  
Kosmo stops panting and lifts his snout, an incriminating flower hanging from the hair along his jaw.  
  
Shiro’s flowers.  
  
Horrified, Keith clutches at his own hair in dismay. “No, no, no—“ He dashes out to the patio to check the damage.  
  
Half of the geraniums are torn asunder and most of some other flower - recently planted - is uprooted and scattered messily across the concrete.  
  
Shiro’s back door slides open and he comes outside. His face is pained. He utters a quiet, “Fuck,” and snorts. “So much for Kosmo not eating flowers.” Shiro gestures pointedly at the flower caught in the fur of Kosmo’s jaw. “You may want to check if French Marigolds are poisonous to dogs.”  
  
Keith winces, mortified. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. Pulls a couple of twenties out of his pocket and holds them out. “Maybe your boyfriend can help you replant them or replace them.”  
  
“Boyfriend? I don’t have a…” Shiro stares at him, dumbfounded at the assumption.  
  
And Keith gets defensive. “I heard you.” He clears his throat and arches an eyebrow. “On the phone.”  
  
“The phone?” Shiro still looks confused before the realization strikes him. “Oh! That’s not— that’s—“ He stammers. Then stops, takes a deep breath, and states with resolve, “I’m a phone sex operator.” Shiro blushes, but stands taller. Then gestures to his prosthetic arm. “The rehab and physical therapy for this took a while. And there weren’t a lot of options for jobs during all that.” Shiro shrugs. “I saw a flyer for it at an LGBT veterans support group.” It is what it is. A job that’s paying the bills. He’s not ashamed of it.  
  
Keith is flustered. “Fuck, sorry for jumping to conclusions.” He shuffles guiltily. “And I’ll help you get all of this fixed up the way it was.” He scoops up a clump of flowers with the roots still attached from the ground and gently places it on the dirt in the planter. Keith smiles faintly up at Shiro, hopeful that he can salvage this. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure Kosmo and I make this up to you.” He reassures Shiro. Keith directs a stern glare at Kosmo.  
  
Kosmo sits, aware that he’s done something bad. He ducks his head and whines.  
  
Shiro looks at the scope of the mess, sighs, then smiles at them. “You promise?”  
  
———  
  
_**Jest, Bantering (Southernwood)**_  
  
“You know, it’s funny. When I got these replacement French Marigolds, I found out their flower meaning is jealousy.” Shiro waggles an eyebrow at Keith.  
  
Keith flushes, called out. “Funny.”  
  
Shiro chuckles.  
  
Keith clears his throat loudly, and changes the subject. “Does this go over here?” He carefully lifts the plant, cradling its roots in a clump of soil.  
  
“Hmm,” Shiro considers the section of the planter that’s starting to get crowded. “No, let’s put that one over here.” He prepares an area of dirt.  
  
Keith follows his directing and plants it, patting it solidly in place. Keith sits back and marvels at their progress. “It looks good. Fuller than it was before.”  
  
Shiro grins. “Yeah.” He looks over at the wildly overgrown Southernwood at the other end of the planter. Then back at Keith. Smirking, he asks, “How would you feel about helping me prune that plant back? Make room for some more on that side?”  
  
Keith blows out a gust of air and uses a sweaty forearm to brush back the hair that keeps falling into his face. He looks at Shiro in snarky challenge. “Any chance you’ll give me some lemonade if I do?”  
  
Shiro laughs. “Is Cherry Limeade okay?”  
  
Keith snickers in disbelief. “What? ‘Cherry Limeade’?”  
  
Shiro shrugs. “I like interesting flavors,” he says. And winks at Keith.  
  
Wow. Are they flirting? Keith gulps. He smiles bashfully and hopes the heat is disguising his blush. “Yeah. It’s more than okay.”  
  
———  
  
_**Remorse (Raspberry)**_  
  
Keith perks up at the ding of the kitchen timer. He pauses Stranger Things and dashes over to the counter. Keith grabs a knife and tests out cutting the raspberry brownies. Perfect. Just cool enough to cut but still warm for delivery. He slices them up and carefully deposits them into a tupperware container. Keith marks a big paper bag with the words ‘I’m sorry. Please forgive me.’ And he doodles a sad little cartoon dog on it. “There we go. That looks kinda like you.” He smiles down at Kosmo, who wags his tail.  
  
He packs the delicious-smelling batch of his favorite raspberry brownies into the bag. “Okay, Kosmo. Just like I trained you, now. It’s time to deliver your apology.”  
  
Keith shoves a couple of dog treats into his pocket and Kosmo scrambles excitedly up to him. Grabbing the bag of brownies, Keith makes for the front door. He opens it and leads Kosmo over to Shiro’s welcome mat. “Sit.”  
  
Kosmo sits on the mat, obedient and attentive for his treat.  
  
“Good boy,” Keith praises him. “Here you go.” He tosses Kosmo a treat.  
  
Kosmo snaps it out of the air and chews enthusiastically.  
  
Once Kosmo’s done devouring the snack and back to looking at Keith expectantly, Keith holds out the bag with the top folded over so no dog drool gets on the tupperware. “Remember what I taught you. Here you go.” He nudges the top of the paper bag at Kosmo’s mouth.  
  
And Kosmo latches onto it, so when Keith lets go, the dog sits patiently holding the bag.  
  
“Great. Good boy.” Keith steps back to hide and watch from his doorway. Keith whisper-shouts,“Now, give!”  
  
Kosmo just stares at him from Shiro’s welcome mat.  
  
Keith rolls his eyes in exasperation. And says it a little louder. “Give, Kosmo! Give!”  
  
Kosmo perks up and faces the door in front of him. He leaps up briefly and puts his paw on the doorbell. His weight is enough for it to ring. And he plops back down, sitting and waiting with the bag still in his mouth. With the message facing the doorway.  
  
The door opens to reveal Shiro, who is very surprised to see Kosmo there, seemingly alone.  
  
Kosmo stands, tail wagging up a storm.  
  
Shiro grins, puzzled. “Hey, buddy. What are you doing here?” He notices the bag. “And what’s that?”  
  
As soon as Shiro gently takes the bag from Kosmo’s mouth, Kosmo lays down on the mat and folds a paw over his snout. He looks up at Shiro with big puppy eyes.  
  
Shiro reads the message and notes the cute drawing. “Aww,” he can’t help but coo. “Thank you,” he says and briefly glances towards Keith’s door, but Keith has quickly ducked out of sight, so he doesn’t see him. He does see the open doorway, though.  
  
He chuckles, absolutely charmed, and kneels down to give Kosmo a good rub. “Thank you, Kosmo.”  
  
Kosmo stands back up, tongue wagging and happy.  
  
“I forgive you,” Shiro assures him. He peeks into the bag and spies the container of dessert. “Are these brownies?” He breathes in the scent. “Ooh! And something else. Some kind of berry? I’ve never had that before.” He smiles and pets Kosmo. “But you better not have any,” he teases, “—probably not good for you.” Patting Kosmo one last time, Shiro says, “Okay. You should probably go home.” He pushes Kosmo gently towards Keith’s doorway. “And make sure you thank Keith for me,” he calls out, clearly loud enough for Keith to hear - with the giant smile he must be wearing apparent from his voice.  
  
Then, he stands and goes back inside.  
  
Kosmo trots back into Keith’s apartment.  
  
Keith crouches and hugs Kosmo. “Good boy,” he says and gives him another dog treat. “Very good boy.” He ruffles his shaggy dog hair. And beams with pride.  
  
———  
  
_**Reconciliation (Filbert - aka hazelnuts)**_  
  
“Oh, good! You’re home.” Shiro holds up Keith’s tupperware. Only it’s not empty. It’s got a new dessert in it. Shiro, aglow with happiness, looks at Keith and proclaims, “I made you some chocolate hazelnut cookies.”  
  
Keith accepts the tupperware, and tries not to become too flustered when Shiro brushes his fingers along Keith’s. He can’t stop the hot shiver of delight that zings up his spine, though.  
  
Keith blinks. “Thank you.” He looks up at Shiro from beneath his lashes. “You didn’t have to do that. You were the one who deserved the apology.”  
  
Shiro shrugs it off. “No, you deserve a thank you.” He gazes at Keith. “You’re really good at keeping my mind off unpleasant things.” His mouth quirks up and he looks off to the side before his eyes snap back to Keith’s. Shiro continues, earnest, “You’ve more than made up for the planter disaster. And it’s just… really nice to spend time with you.”  
  
Keith smiles and bites his lip. His heart is pounding but he can’t help but lean closer to Shiro. “It’s nice spending time with you, too.” His eyes are locked with Shiro’s and he can’t look away. Nervous laughter bubbles out of him. He tries to play it off. “I think you’ve even gotten me interested in gardening.”  
  
“I have?” Shiro asks softly, intense.  
  
Keith nods. “Yeah.” And god, the tension between them is killing him. “I’ve even started looking up plants online.”  
  
“Well, allow me to get you your first plant. We can plant it together,” Shiro suggests, visibly pleased. “Maybe the day after tomorrow? Around 5?”  
  
“I’d like that.” Feeling like he could vibrate out of his skin, Keith shoves his hands in his pockets. Did they just agree to a date? Does gardening count as a date?  
  
———  
  
_**You Occupy My Thoughts (Purple Pansies)**_  
  
Unbeknownst to Keith, Shiro spends the next day desperately searching online for flowers that are safe for dogs in addition to conveying the meaning he wants to. He agonizes over the right message to send and then scoffs at himself. Keith might not even look up the flower meaning.  
  
When it’s time, Shiro goes out to his patio, and seeing Keith do the same on his patio, wonders whether he should have gone to Keith’s door so they could be closer. Working on the same side of the planter. Brushing against each other’s sides while they work.  
  
“Hi.” Keith catches sight of him.  
  
Shiro beams at him. “I got you some purple pansies,” he says, holding out the container of plants. “The information online was a little contradictory, but I tried to get something safe for dogs.” He mentally scoffs at himself. Great. Now Keith won’t know if the flower meaning has any significance. Ugh. What happened to his smooth flirtations?  
  
Keith doesn’t seem to notice how awkward Shiro is feeling. He accepts the flowers. “Thank you. I appreciate the thought.” He smiles.  
  
And Shiro wonders if maybe Keith does know the flower’s meaning. It’s possible. Or is he reading way too much into this? What if Keith’s not even into guys?  
  
Keith crouches down and starts testing out positioning. “Here, maybe?”  
  
Shiro grabs his trowel. “Yeah, that’ll be nice. And you’ll still have room if you want to put any more.”  
  
Glancing at Shiro, Keith nods. “Yeah.” He starts preparing the plant to be transferred, used to the process now, while Shiro prepares the soil to take the new plant. Keith wonders aloud, “Hey, have you ever thought about planting vegetables? Or fruits?”  
  
Shiro chuckles. “I did. But—,“ he gestures around them, “It’s too open for it. It would attract wild animals. Which might get the landlord knocking on my door,” he shrugs. “Mainly, I don’t think I alone could eat how much it would yield fast enough. I’d feel bad when some of it inevitably went bad.”  
  
Shiro looks up and catches Keith gazing at him. He grins, the tension easing from his shoulders and his confidence returning.  
  
Abashed, Keith turns back to the soil, setting the flowers in place. In his rush, their hands brush. He blushes but doesn’t pull away.  
  
They slowly pat the dirt into place, their fingers occasionally touching. And he’s suddenly reminded of that scene from Ghost, which sends his pulse pounding.  
  
“Say, Keith,” Shiro starts, gathering courage. “Do you want to—“  
  
The ring of a phone cuts him off.  
  
Keith’s eyes dart to the sharp ring from his pocket and the dirt on his hands. The phone stops ringing, but chirps with a newly received text. Keith wipes away what he can and checks his phone.  
  
Shiro dusts his hands off. “Who’s that? Your better half?” he asks warily.  
  
Keith looks at him, bewildered. “‘Better half’? No,” he denies, flustered. “Just work.” Keith shakes his head. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m available!” He coughs, cheeks going pink. “Single, I mean. Single,” he emphasizes. “Oh my—,” he cuts himself off. Why is his voice coming out so much louder than usual? “I gotta—“ Keith waves behind him. “I’ll see you later,” he nods and heads back into his apartment, completely flustered.  
  
Shiro watches him go, relieved and optimistic. “Yeah,” he smiles to himself. “I’ll see you later.”  
  
———  
  
_**I Desire A Return Of Affection (Jonquil)**_  
  
Keith’s not leaving this up to chance anymore; he’s decided. He’s already made a fool out of himself. It’s time to put things to the test. If Shiro is truly attempting to court Keith through the language of flowers, then this particular flower should put the ball in Shiro’s court. Keith is clearly interested. What’s Shiro going to do about it?  
  
Keith plants some Jonquils in his planter when he knows Shiro is home. He’s just finishing up, standing to shake off the dirt, and starting to lose hope despite the bright cheerful flowers announcing his intentions to the world.  
  
But then, the squeal of Shiro’s sliding door opening sounds.  
  
“Keith!” Shiro calls out. He smiles, slightly out of breath - as if he had rushed out to meet him. “I, uh… I know things kind of ended early last time. But I wanted to ask you…” Shiro takes a deep breath and a leap of faith, “Would you like to go out with me? Maybe get dinner?” He fidgets nervously, rubbing at the nape of his neck. “Like on a date?” he asks softly and bites his lip.  
  
“Yes!” Keith answers in delight. “I’d love to.”  
  
And they both grin at each other. Excited with joy.  
  
———  
  
_**Sensuality (Spanish Jasmine)**_  
  
Their first kiss is after dinner among the Spanish Jasmine at the side of the restaurant. It’s trembling and then warm and sure. It calms and steadies before Keith pulls Shiro in deeper. Passion rising, their kiss becomes hungrier and wetter.  
  
“Oh,” Keith moans. He pulls back just far enough to stare up into Shiro’s eyes.  
  
Shiro holds him tight as they sway with the force of their sudden arousal. “Home?”  
  
Keith nods and darts in for one more peck of the lips before they head to his car.  
  
Later, stumbling through the door to Shiro’s apartment, they kiss and cling to one another.  
  
“Mmm,” Shiro licks into Keith’s mouth. “You still taste like dessert.”  
  
Keith tugs his jacket off and starts pulling at Shiro’s pants, leading him towards the bedroom.  
  
Shiro chuckles and allows himself to be tugged along. “That’s right. You would know the layout.” He leans in and kisses Keith on the cheek. “Is Kosmo going to be okay alone for the night?”  
  
Keith grins. “So thoughtful.” He lays back on the bed and hums when Shiro climbs over him. Keith wraps his legs around him. “Yeah,” he replies, “Just have to be there in the morning to feed him.”  
  
Shiro brushes Keith’s soft sweep of hair back from his forehead and kisses his hairline, then his temple, then his neck.  
  
They rock against each other, rubbing and moaning. And then their limbs untangle and re-tangle wildly as they slide off their clothes and toss them away.  
  
Keith runs his hands along Shiro’s smooth back and grabs ahold of his firm ass to grind him harder against him.  
  
Shiro stretches to pluck some lube and condoms from a bedside drawer. He lays back atop Keith and kisses him, ravenous with lust. Squeezing some lube onto his flesh fingers, he starts preparing Keith’s hole. His warm fingers prod carefully before dipping inside.  
  
Keith pants, “Fuck, yes,” and braces himself, gripping onto Shiro’s high tech prosthetic where it’s pressing into the mattress by his hip and propping Shiro’s muscled body up above him.  
  
Shiro glances at Keith’s hand on his artificial arm and looks earnestly into Keith’s eyes. “Let me know if it’s too cold or hard and I’ll move it,” he says.  
  
Keith strokes his hand up Shiro’s arm to his flesh bicep and back down along the smooth metallic limb. “I don’t think you need to worry about that,” he smirks. “It’s warm from your body heat. But I will if you want me to.”  
  
“Ungh.” Shiro practically vibrates with pleasure and relief at being able to touch Keith unreservedly. He pumps two slick fingers deep into Keith’s hole and shudders at the soft warmth inside. Shiro eases a third finger in, and thrusts his hand roughly, loosening Keith open.  
  
“Oh, yeah.” Keith bites his lip. “Thank you,” he huffs out, looking up through lashes dampened with sweat. “You’re kinda big,” he says. Not letting on that the only thing he’s had inside him before Shiro is his own fingers and six inches of silicone.  
  
He’s always just been too awkward and antisocial for dating. And he had never enjoyed the attempted hookups long enough to get very far. Honestly, the fact that things are working out so well with Shiro is miraculous. His heart is thrumming like a hummingbird, excited and eager to hang onto Shiro as long as he can.  
  
Shiro slides out his fingers and Keith watches him cover his mouthwateringly long and thick cock with a condom.  
  
Shiro lifts Keith’s legs up and pushes them towards Keith, folding him. Keith latches onto his thighs, drawing them back and holding himself open. Crouching down above him, Shiro nudges his hard cock into Keith’s hole. He grabs onto Keith’s hips with both hands and lifts him up while he pulls Keith bodily onto his cock - smooth and steady until he’s buried balls-deep.  
  
“God, yes!” Keith whines breathily and marvels at the pleasurable stretch reaching so deep inside him. He grunts and wiggles, grinding himself harder onto Shiro’s cock and against the muscular thighs he’s draped over.  
  
Shiro gasps and rocks harder into Keith as he writhes and flutters around his length. “Keith,” he cries out and dips down to kiss him again and dive his tongue across his.  
  
Stilling Keith’s hips, Shiro takes control and begins a rhythm of plunging thrusts. In and out, so deep and hot. He starts brushing Keith’s prostate, which has him screaming with joy and thrashing enthusiastically under him. Shiro aims to hit the spot consistently, and rockets into him, fucking him wildly.  
  
Keith is startled to hear himself wailing so loudly in ecstasy. His whole body is flushed and sweaty, now. And his own dick keeps bouncing between their abs, sliding in pre-cum and exertion. He looks up into Shiro’s face, which is both scrunched up and gaping wide with enjoyment. His rosy flush bringing his scar into sharp relief. He’s so beautiful. Keith hugs tightly to Shiro’s broad shoulders and pulls him down to share a slightly drool-soaked kiss.  
  
And something about that, the feel of Shiro’s balls slapping against his ass, and the sensuous stroking friction reaching so far into him pushes Keith over the edge. He comes, spasming release onto their stomachs and milking desperately at Shiro’s cock.  
  
“Oh, fuck, Keith,” Shiro shouts, grinding and holding as deep as possible, before spilling his load and pumping it hard with one, two, three more thrusts into Keith.  
  
They settle into stillness, replete with satisfaction, but heaving for breath.  
  
Shiro pulls out slowly and discards the condom before laying exhausted beside Keith.  
  
Wow, they both think.  
  
Keith idly observes the way the moonlight streams in through the blinds onto both of them. Then, turning to Shiro, he locks gazes with him, and bluntly admits, “I really like you.”  
  
“Mm,” Shiro hums with appreciation. “I like you too.” And with a giant happy smile, he suggests, “We should keep dating.”  
  
Keith smiles widely in return. “I agree.”  
  
——  
  
Months later, Keith tongues at the gag in his mouth and slides sinuously upon the sheets while his boyfriend Shiro teases him mercilessly and silently while on the phone with a customer.  
  
“And then I’d massage your nipples,” Shiro narrates to the caller. He winks at Keith and proceeds to rub Keith’s nipples until the nerve endings tingle. He grabs an ice cube from a nearby glass and holds it ready over Keith’s chest.  
  
Keith clenches his fists in the sheets in anticipation. It’s ridiculous how sexy Shiro manages to be with that silly phone headset on. He nods at Shiro.  
  
“And I’d tease them with ice,” he says, bringing the cube so close to Keith’s nipple that he jerks when a drop of water drips onto it. And just when Keith can feel the cold of the ice…  
  
Shiro stops.  
  
Keith’s groan is muffled behind the gag.  
  
But Shiro straightens, alert to something on the other end of the call. “Yeah, another time,” he says and dashes over to his laptop to log the end of the call. Shiro tosses aside his headset and saunters up to Keith. “Something came up. Besides the usual,” he smirks, reaching out to rub Keith’s erection.  
  
Shiro grins. “So you can be as loud as you want while I tease you.”  
  
Keith removes the gag and flexes his jaw. He pulls Shiro closer and runs his fingers through his mussed hair. “Good.” Keith kisses him softly.  
  
———  
  
_**Declaration Of Love (Red Tulips)**_  
  
It’s spring again and all their flowers are blooming.  
  
Keith pulls his car into the spot next to Shiro’s motorcycle and parks. Picking up their breakfast and the pot of red tulips, he makes his way back into his apartment and hopes that Shiro is still comfortably asleep in his bed.  
  
He climbs quietly up the stairs but Kosmo bounds up after, undoubtedly warning Shiro of their arrival. “Silly dog. Shh,” Keith signals to Kosmo before edging towards the bedroom and peeking in the doorway.  
  
Shiro is stretching along the length of the bed and clearly at the tail end of a yawn. He blinks and smiles at Keith. “Where’d you go?”  
  
Keith sets the flowers on the bedside table and sits on the bed. “Getting breakfast,” he says and offers the warm meal to Shiro.  
  
Shiro accepts the food, grinning. “And flowers,” he says, glancing at them with appreciation.  
  
Keith ducks his head and blushes. He looks back at Shiro and admits, bashfully, “Yeah, flowers with a special meaning.”  
  
Shiro gasps. “The language of flowers? I’ll have to look it up,” he says, flustered. “I don’t know them all off the top of my head.”  
  
Keith hugs Shiro tight when it looks like he’s about to get up. “No, it’s okay. Don’t bother with that. I’ll tell you.” He would take a fortifying breath, but he doesn’t need to. It’s so easy.  
  
Keith gazes into Shiro’s eyes. “It’s my declaration of love. Because I love you,” he imparts with all the heavy emotional importance of it in his voice.  
  
“Keith,” Shiro whispers in awe. He hugs him close and breathes him in. “I love you, too. I love you so much.” Shiro touches their foreheads together, then nuzzles the skin of his face against Keith’s, rubbing their cheeks, and embraces him in a loving kiss.  
  
Kosmo leaps onto the bed and joins them, snuggling close and happy. Keith and Shiro laugh.

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know much about gardening. Apologies for any mistakes.
> 
> Let me know if you liked this! And you can also find me on tumblr [@ificanlivethruthis](https://ificanlivethruthis.tumblr.com) and twitter [@Wendy_Pi_Slice](https://twitter.com/Wendy_Pi_Slice).


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